


it's foreign on this side // but it feels like i'm home again

by elsinorerose, shaypotter



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Brief Mentions of Blood, F/M, Fluff, Healing, Idiots in Love, Injury, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 00:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19779742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsinorerose/pseuds/elsinorerose, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaypotter/pseuds/shaypotter
Summary: "Like I've never been stabbed before," Jester mutters, rolling her eyes. "Why does it hurt this badevery time?""That is a question for the ages," says Caleb with a faint smile, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.Caleb distracts Jester.





	it's foreign on this side // but it feels like i'm home again

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 3 of #widojestweek, prompt: kissing as a distraction. Title from "This Side" by Nickel Creek. Thanks to [Comet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bringyouhometoo), our resident Zemnian expert, for her help!

Jester grits her teeth, her hands pressing hard against the blood pouring out of her side, and lets out a loud hiss of pain.

_ "Jester!" _ comes Caleb's voice, cutting harsh through the smoke that fills the cavern. And then he's at her side, just in time to catch her as she is about to collapse.

"Did you  _ see _ that asshole?" she manages, gasping through the pain. "Like, what a dick move, he fucked my dress all up." 

She forces out a grin at Caleb, stumbling against him as he struggles to hold her up. When he grabs her around her waist, another spasm of agony shoots through her, and her legs give out entirely.

_ "Fuck,"  _ she hisses, sinking to her knees.

"Shh, you are all right, it's not so bad." Caleb's face is white under the grime of battle streaking his skin. He lowers himself to the ground next to her and helps her move so that she can half-sit, half-lay in his lap. "Are you out of spells? Can you heal yourself,  _ liebste?" _

Jester lets herself lean heavy into his chest, resting all her weight against him. It feels like every ounce of strength has left her body. "No, I’m — you know, pretty fucking exhausted," she admits. Then she smiles, taking one hand off her bleeding side to grip at Caleb’s forearm.  _ "Somebody _ had to go and get knocked out twice." Her voice is teasing even as she winces once more at the burning just beneath her ribs.

Caleb takes her hand off of his arm and holds it tight in his own hand instead. There is terror poorly concealed behind his eyes — his whole body is tense, as if he's holding up the ceiling of the cavern on his shoulders.

"Will you be all right until Caduceus can get here?" he asks, his voice tightly controlled. "He is a few rooms back still, he had to help Beauregard, he..."

Jester squeezes his hand. "You aren’t getting rid of me that easily." She laughs, the sound quiet between them, even as she shifts to look at him better. "I’m okay. It’s just —  _ fuck."  _ Her wounds throb. "Shit. Balls. I'm okay, I can wait for Caduceus. Don't worry, Caleb."

Caleb relaxes just a fraction, squeezes Jester's hand, and tries to position her as comfortably as he can without having to let go of her; but every time their weight shifts Jester gasps involuntarily, shaking and biting her lip  _ hard  _ to keep from crying out.

"I'm sorry," murmurs Caleb. He gives up and stops moving, just strokes Jester's hand with his thumb as he holds it close to his chest. "Can I do anything for the pain?" he asks in a low voice.

"No," gasps Jester, squeezing his hand back. "No, just...just distract me, okay? Just — "

This time a whimper escapes her lips. She rides out the pain and slumps back wearily into Caleb's arms as it passes.

"Like I've never been stabbed before," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "Why does it hurt this bad  _ every time?" _

"That is a question for the ages," says Caleb with a faint smile, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "Tell me...tell me a story, or tell me something I don't know. Preach to me about the Traveler." 

He kisses her hand again, and Jester feels herself relax just a little bit. Her lips spread into a soft smile.

"Well, you already know he's really cool," she begins, and her smile widens at the warmth that comes into Caleb's eyes at her words, the fondness she sees plainly written there. "And he's always around, you know, he's never very far. Did you know — " A sharp inhale — she holds her breath until the pain eases a little. "Did you know that he  _ really  _ likes you?"

"The...Traveler, really likes me?"

"Yeah, you know, he — " She grits her teeth. "He thinks you're super cool too."

"Does he now," smiles Caleb. His voice is soft, quiet enough to be just for the two of them — not that there's anyone else in the cavern with them, just smoke and destroyed zombies. 

Jester feels a little giddy. "He likes your eyes," she grins. "Says they're just... _ so  _ pretty, Caleb."

A light blush rises in Caleb's cheeks. "He has poor taste, your Traveler," he says under his breath, but that smile is still playing about his lips. "He should take a look at your eyes instead. Much prettier."

"Well, he  _ has  _ to like  _ my  _ eyes. I'm his favorite cleric and — " 

Her fingers dig tight into Caleb's shirt — she didn't even realize she was holding it but she needs  _ something  _ to dig her fingers into when the pain rips through her like this, like getting stabbed all over again.

"You are everybody's favorite cleric," murmurs Caleb, silently berating himself for ever spending gold on paper, ink, incense, anything that isn't a healing potion.

"That's true," she laughs, and then immediately regrets it — she must have a broken rib, her laugh ends on a  _ groan.  _

Caleb's grip on her tightens.

"You’re just really handsome, Caleb," Jester mumbles, "it’s no surprise the Traveler likes you. He obviously only hangs out with pretty people." She nods slightly down towards her own body.

Caleb's eyes follow her without meaning to, roving down her body until his gaze stops on the wound in her side. Something in his face both hardens and softens at the same time.

"I am sorry it hurts," he sighs. 

"Mmm. Do you think the Traveler picked me  _ because  _ I'm so pretty?"

"I think you have lost a good deal of blood," replies Caleb, giving her another small smile even as his blush deepens.

Jester smiles back. "Not  _ too  _ much blood. Just, you know. Enough to...what's the phrase?  _ Loosen my lips." _

She packs as much playful, flirty energy into her voice as she can, gives Caleb a teasing look along with her words. She's not the only one who could use distracting right now. He worries — she can see him worrying right now, as he looks back over his shoulder, craning his neck to see if anyone is coming yet.

Jester follows his gaze. There's no sign of the rest of the Mighty Nein. That's not really a cause for alarm, not yet — they were all pretty split up here in this maze of tunnels and caverns, and Caduceus is almost certainly taking care of someone else who's hurt even worse than Jester is. Really, Caleb should be worrying about the rest of the party, not her.

The wound in her side twists sharply into agony again, and she bites back a cry. Caleb turns back to look at her and, for just a second, catches a glimpse of the real pain on Jester's face before she has a chance to hide it.

"Oh, Jester…" 

"It's fine!" she chirps brightly, as though she's not covered in blood in his arms.

_ "Ich wünsche, ich könnte dich heilen," _ murmurs Caleb, holding her hand to his chest.  _ "Du hast mich auf so viele arten geheilt." _

Jester pouts. "No fair,  _ Cayleb,  _ I said  _ distract me.  _ I'm bleeding out here and you're just...telling me secrets in Zemnian."

"It's not a secret," Caleb whispers before he kisses her.

She surges up into his kiss, ignoring the jolt of pain from her wound. There's something stronger than pain in control of her right now. Faintly, in the back of her mind, she wonders if she's already died, if the Traveler has given her a perfect, beautiful hallucination for just a moment, a gift before she passes on. Her mind spins. The hand gripping Caleb's shirt pulls tight, keeping him where he is, keeping him close.

Not that he's going anywhere. He kisses her hard _ ,  _ his left arm supporting her around her neck and shoulders while his right hand lets go of hers and moves to cradle the side of her face — kisses her  _ hard,  _ because...this is for her, it's to get her mind off the pain. This is Jester Lavorre, after all — how better to distract her than with something romantic, something sexy? Something out of one of those books she loves so much?

He kisses her the way he thinks she must want to be kissed. The way he's sure she has imagined being kissed — though not with him, never with him — but he does the best he can. And Jester is kissing him back: she bites his lip playfully, cups his jaw with one hand, tilts his head so that she can kiss him deeper, get  _ more. _

Caleb pulls away for just a second with a gasp.  _ "Fuck, _ Jester," he breathes before coming back, slanting his mouth over hers again, his free hand moving to her hair, to the base of her horn, cradling her.

Slowly the burning across his back, where the acid caught him earlier, begins to fade out, along with the aches in his shoulder, his side, his hip — along with the rest of the cavern, it all pulls back so far into the fog that he forgets it exists. Nothing exists but Jester. She is dizzy with blood loss, surely, and doesn't know what she's doing, and maybe that means he shouldn't be doing this either — but he has nothing else to give her, to drag her thoughts from what must be agony ripping open her side. All he can give her is...

There's a shout from...hundreds of feet away, miles away — Beauregard, and Caduceus behind her, their footsteps splashing loud in the mud and blood and fetid water pooling on the cavern floor.

Caleb tears himself away from Jester.

A tiny sound slips out of her, disappointment and  _ want _ fusing together as their contact is broken. For a moment she moves with him, about to catch his lips again in another of those searing kisses — but then there's a distant shout from Beau, and Jester freezes. She's still clutching Caleb's shirt, her knuckles white.

"Caleb?" she breathes, her eyes wide and her voice wrecked as she stares at him.

He's breathless. Actually panting. His face is flushed as he leans in again and rests his forehead on hers for one scalding moment — then he presses a rough kiss to her temple and whispers,  _ "Ich wünsche, ich wäre mutiger, mein schatz." _

"Caleb — " Jester begins again, as he kisses her temple once more — and then he's sitting her up, supporting her just as Beau and Caduceus run into the chamber.

_ Fuck off,  _ thinks Jester wildly,  _ this is important, we're having a MOMENT — _

"Over here!" calls Caleb, his voice hoarse. "Cleric down!"

"I said — " Jester tugs on his shirt. "I  _ said,  _ no Zemnian secrets, Caleb, that's  _ not fair." _

The corner of his mouth lifts in a near-smile as he looks down at her. "One day I will say it to you in Common," he murmurs. "I promise."

Then Caduceus is there, kneeling beside them, pressing gentle hands against Jester's wounds and calling on the Wildmother to heal her. The invigorating light of his spell knits together Jester's flesh, regenerates the blood in her veins, mends the damage. He gives her more than she needs, really, until even her bruises are gone.

Jester doesn't take her eyes off Caleb. Beau is crouching at her side, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and Caduceus is praying aloud in his gentle voice, and all Jester can think of is Caleb’s lips on her own, his fingers in her hair, his body close and warm. 

When the spell is finished, Beau grips Jester's arm and hauls her up into a tight hug. "You gotta be more careful, Jess," she says into her ear, sounding just a little choked up. "That could've gone really, really shitty."

"I know," Jester sighs against Beau's shoulder. "It didn't, though. Caleb was there."

She can hear Caduceus behind her helping Caleb to his feet. He's going to need healing too, Jester knows — he was putting on a brave face earlier, for her — for  _ her  _ — but he took some injuries of his own during that fight. They all did.

"Fjord was pretty banged up," Beau is saying as she pulls away, clapping a hand on Jester's back. "Like, already, just from the fuckin' zombies, and then Nott accidentally shot him. Well. She says it was an accident."

"Oh my god…"

There's a hand on Jester's arm before Beau can start leading her away. Caleb turns her towards him and presses a very quick, almost feather-light kiss to her forehead. "Do you feel better?" he murmurs.

Jester’s heart gives an unsteady little flip. "Yeah, Caleb. Thanks."

_ "Ja,  _ you're...welcome," he mutters, ducking his head. Then more quietly, "Sorry I couldn't do more."

Fuck, she is so  _ gone _ on him. She can't help herself — she flashes him a cheeky little smile, lets her eyes sparkle. "I don't know, Caleb, you're a pretty good distraction."

He stares at her.

"Don't make me wait too long on those Zemnian secrets, okay?" Jester adds over her shoulder as she hurries after Beau and Caduceus.

Caleb follows them at a distance, heart pounding. An absurd thought occurs to him: that from now on, his life will be divided into  _ before  _ he tasted Jester's lips, and  _ after.  _

_ Ridiculous, _ he thinks,  _ idiotic  _ — and then he sees her glance back at him, just once, and everything ridiculous seems real.

When he catches up to her and she holds out her hand, he takes it. And he doesn't let go.

_ fin _


End file.
